


That One where Everybody who Deserves It Lives

by wilddragonflying



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Because this movie fucking needs one, Everybody Lives, F/F, F/M, FIx It, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hand Jobs, M/M, Pining, Relationship Issues, Spoilers, Well You're Wrong, if you think I'm letting this sit, should probably tag for that, who deserves to anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 15:33:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12171732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilddragonflying/pseuds/wilddragonflying
Summary: ”Guess that just leaves you, Brandon.””Sorry, bruv - I've got a date. Bloke’s been eyeing me up at the shop for a week now, so I finally asked him out.”Eggsy just rolls his eyes with a grin, though. “Guess I'll have to fall back on Roxy, then. I’m sure she won’t mind a chance to go snooping through me sock drawer for any blackmail.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started plotting this on my way home from the theater; FUCK THAT NOISE IF YOU THINK I'M LEAVING ROXY, JB, AND MERLIN FOR DEAD.

”Guess that just leaves you, Brandon.”

”Sorry, bruv - I've got a date. Bloke’s been eyeing me up at the shop for a week now, so I finally asked him out.” Brandon does look truly apologetic, and Eggsy can’t even be remotely mad at him for it; from the way Brandon talked, this Kyle bloke was well fit. 

Eggsy just rolls his eyes with a grin, though. “Guess I'll have to fall back on Roxy, then. I’m sure she won’t mind a chance to go snooping through me sock drawer for any blackmail.”

Tilde laughs at that. “Oh, she doesn’t have to - all she has to do is ask me.”

Eggsy rolls his eyes again, harder this time, and just drinks as the four of them break out into gales of laughter.

* * *

_ur da best_

”Agent or friend?” Roxy asks cheekily, laughing at Eggsy’s reply of _both ;)_. Shaking her head, Roxy leans over to pat JB on the side, prompting the pug to snort as she resettles herself behind the desk. She’s researching the Golden Circle, and running a program Merlin gave her after their meeting the day before. He’d been worried about Charlie’s attack, and how Eggsy had described him messing with the console in the back of the taxi, and had asked Roxy to run this program on Eggsy’s home laptop, which had a faster speed than the tablets they all carried now. 

Roxy’s barely glanced at her research before a beeping from Eggsy’s laptop draws her attention; she sees the word ‘missile’ and JB starts barking, and Roxy reacts on instinct. Abandoning the technology, she grabs JB and bolts for the window, throwing it open and leaping for the balcony of the house next door. JB yelps when she slams against the railing, and she drops them to the ground and bolts, an ominous whistle drifting through the air above her, heading directly for Eggsy’s house. Roxy ducks into an alley and shields JB with her body as the missile finds its target, blowing a hole in the middle of Stanhope Mews and obliterating almost everything Eggsy owns.

Eggsy makes it back to the rubble of his house in record time, considering he’s coming from Sweden, and Roxy immediately hands over JB, who sets about making sure his owner is unharmed before squirming in as close as dog-ly possible, still shaking a bit from the shock of what just happened. “What the _fuck_ happened?” Eggsy demands, bewildered, as he passes over an extra umbrella for Roxy, who shrugs helplessly. 

”I have no idea,” she confesses. “Merlin’s program - “

”Saved your life,” the man himself finishes, sidling into the alleyway they’re hunkered down in. “Charlie’s arm was remotely controlled, it would appear, and hacked the console in the taxi. It was enough to get the location of every agents’ home in Kingsman.”

Roxy and Eggsy suck in a breath, glancing at each other before looking back at Merlin. “So HQ - “

”Gone. Along with every other agent, including Arthur. We are all that’s left.”

* * *

Split three ways, the whiskey doesn’t last very long, and it’s in the middle of Merlin berating himself for not having better security on the taxi consoles that Eggsy spots the back of the label, only visible now that the alcohol is gone. “Mates,” he says slowly, passing the bottle to Roxy, “I think we should go to Kentucky.”

Roxy studies the label for a moment before nodding and handing it over to Merlin, who’s wiping his face on his sleeve; Eggsy pretends not to notice how red his eyes are. “Well, at least we don’t have to pack a lot,” Roxy says lightly, an attempt at humor that falls as flat as the stares Eggsy and Merlin level her with.

* * *

” _Fuck me_.” It’s breathed in unison as the three of them realize simultaneously what - _who_ they’re looking at. Harry _fucking_ Hart, miraculously alive.

Roxy sees the way the man’s expression changes, and as he reaches for his belt, she snaps, “Don’t you _dare._ I know you’re carrying some kind of weapon, most likely at least one gun, and if you dare harm him I won’t bother taking you out myself - I’ll hand you over to him.” She nods at Eggsy, who manages to wrench his gaze from Harry long enough to look at her and then the stranger in front of them, his expression hardening as he sees the way the man’s hand hesitates and where. 

”Fucking try it, mate,” he snarls, accent thickening into what he’d had when they’d first met. “I’ll - “

”He couldn’t even if he wanted to,” Merlin interrupts; when Roxy looks at him, he’s got his eyes narrowed - but he’s not looking at Harry, rather at the edges of the glass. “That’s bulletproof glass, and if it’s anything like Kingsman’s, it’ll survive even a point-blank hit. All he’ll do is scare the fuck out of Harry.”

Shock crosses the man’s face, but before he can retort there’s a woman bursting through the door spewing apologies, cutting through the zip ties binding them to the chairs and handing them towels to sop up the liquor they’d been splashed with. Eggsy doesn’t bother hanging around for an explanation; as soon as the worst of the alcohol is mopped up, he bolts, out the door and down the hall, Merlin hot on his heels. Roxy hadn’t known Harry the way they had, and she finds herself intrigued by their erstwhile captors, so she stays behind. The two of them are eyeing her as curiously as she’s eyeing them(and maybe a bit more than mere _curiosity_ is in the woman’s gaze, but it’s there in Roxy’s too, she knows, so she’s not complaining), until they’re all distracted by the - bad - reunion playing out on the other side of the one-way mirror.

When Eggsy and Merlin return, they’re clearly disheartened, neither of them truly focused now on the matter at hand, so Roxy takes over. Proper introductions are made, and then Tequila leads Roxy and Eggsy out of the medical wing while Merlin stays behind with Ginger to talk science and medicine.

* * *

Eggsy’s running on autopilot the whole way up the tower and through the meeting with Champagne - Champ - and the other agents. He nods when told where he’ll be going and what he’ll be doing, but frowns when Roxy volunteers to stay behind. “You’re the best at this shit, though,” he protests.

Roxy laughs. “Yes, but I’m - Well, I’m very well known at Glastco, let’s put it that way. It’s a very bad place for me to attempt to go undercover,” she says with a wink, and Eggsy manages to drum up a laugh for that; it is funny, even if Eggsy would rather have another Kingsman agent with him instead of going with this “Whiskey” bloke.

”Well, keep an eye on Harry and Merlin for me, yeah? And JB - they’re all we’ve got left of Kingsman.” The words come out more serious than he means them to, but Roxy just nods, solemn as she accepts the responsibility. Merlin’s brilliant, but he’s no field agent, and right now Harry’s little better than a civilian - and that’s a can of worms that Eggsy’s gonna slam the lid shut on _right fucking now._ He can have his little breakdown later, after they figure out this ‘golden circle’ shite.

* * *

Eggsy’s never done a honeypot mission before, and he desperately hopes he doesn’t have to do another anytime soon - or ever again, preferably. He feels dirty, and the disastrous conversation with Tilde didn’t help matters. That feeling doesn’t go away; it only gets worse, in fact, when he returns to Statesmen and finds that Harry’s leaving, that Merlin’s giving up on him and letting him go on to be a fucking _lepidopterologist,_ and Tilde’s resolutely ignoring his calls and texts.

It feels like being struck by lightning, or maybe the stars aligning, when he flips to the photo of himself, Tilde, and JB, and then glances over to the ridiculous motorbike-helmet-wearing dog statue, and Eggsy quickly flips to another app, searching for what he needs. 

He takes the puppy to Harry, the one that looks so much like the mounted dog Harry had loved for over a decade and longer, and with bile rising in his throat, he pulls out the gun he knows is unloaded - but Harry doesn’t know that.

”Should I shoot him?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, a disclaimer: I am not British, and this has not been Britpicked. So if you are British and see anything glaringly wrong, let me know.

_”Should I shoot him?”_

The words echo, floating on the wings of the butterflies swimming in his vision, the ones flitting over the images flickering through his brain. Harry knows he’s shouting something, shouting at the young man who’s backed him into a corner, this man who claims to have known Harry - 

”It was a blank!” he screams, arms tightening protectively around the puppy in them, careful not to hurt it, all-too-aware of the strength in those lethal limbs. “It’s a _fucking_ blank!”

Surprise and hope flit across Eggsy’s expression - and Harry looks down, blinks when he realizes that this is not his dog. “You aren’t Mr. Pickles,” he murmurs, swallowing heavily as the last of the memories almost literally _click_ into place. He looks up and around, his one eye taking in the room until his gaze lands on Eggsy and then - “Eggsy, Valentine has a device, he’s going to - “

Eggsy’s dropped the gun at some point, and he steps forward, hands gripping Harry’s upper arms. “It’s alright, Harry,” he soothes, “it’s sorted, I’ve sorted it. That was a year ago, we stopped him.”

Some tension Harry hadn’t even known he’d been holding leeches from his body then, and Harry feels like he could collapse with relief - but instead, he shifts the puppy to one arm so he can reel Eggsy in with the other, crushing the younger man to him. “Oh, Eggsy,” he murmurs, burying his face in the crook of Eggsy’s neck, tears pricking the corner of his eye. “Oh, my boy, I’m so sorry, I never should have said - “

”It’s alright,” Eggsy says, his tone sincere as he pulls back, expression earnest. “It’s alright, Harry, you’re - _fuck_ , you’re alive, and we both said shit we didn’t mean and I _missed you_ and - “

And Harry doesn’t know what comes over him, but he’s leaning forward, tilting his head just so until he can slot his mouth of Eggsy’s in a chaste, gentle kiss that lasts barely a heartbeat. When he pulls back, Eggsy’s staring at him in open-mouthed shock, and Harry’s heart sinks to somewhere around his toes. _I shouldn’t have done that,_ he thinks, even as Merlin walks through the door, taking in the tableau before him and then beaming at Harry. Harry only manages to pull himself together through sheer virtue of years of being a Kingsman and manages to behave as though everything is fine.

Everything is _not_ fine. Eggsy’s been avoiding him - nothing overt, not to an outsider, but to trained agents like himself, Merlin, Roxy, and the Statesman? It’s as plain as day. He gives Harry an awkward pat on the shoulder as Merlin explains the side effects of regaining his memories while Whiskey beats up the bar patrons with - a lasso? _Americans._ \- but that’s the only contact they have even after they board the plane bound for Italy. 

* * *

Roxy covers for his near-disastrous mistake, firing a stun dart of her own and then standing watch as Harry takes care of the computers, sending Eggsy and Whiskey safely up the mountain. Harry waits for a moment before setting the microphone on his glasses to ‘mute,’ gesturing for Roxy to do the same. Once she does, he asks, “Does there seem to be something… off, about agent Whiskey to you?”

Roxy frowns as she thinks the question over; Harry keeps an eye on the feed from Eggsy’s glasses while she does so. “Yes,” she says slowly after a moment. “Nothing that I can put my finger on, but… Now that you mention it, there does seem to be something.”

”He doesn’t seem terribly dedicated to finding the antidote,” Harry points out. “He’s been rather blase about the whole thing.”

Roxy nods, expression contemplative. “It’s food for thought,” she says finally, and the two of them lapse into silence, restoring the microphones on their glasses. They wait like that for what seems an agonizingly long while, each watching the monitors as well as their glasses as the other two steal into the laboratory and then Eggsy bluffs his way through nicking a sample of the antidote. Roxy swears creatively when Charlie recognizes Eggsy, and then again when Harry freezes, butterflies dancing in his vision right as Eggsy and Whiskey board the lift. Dimly, Harry’s aware of her shoving him to the side, but it takes another few moments for him to come back to himself - and by then she’s swearing again, but this time because the words ‘SYSTEM OVERRIDE’ are flashing on the screen in bold red letters. 

”Eggsy, you’re on your own,” she spits, finally conceding defeat. “You survive, meet us at the emergency rendezvous point.” She grabs her bag, Harry grabs his, and they book it, watching the death-defying fall through one lens as they start the hike.

* * *

Whiskey and Eggsy beat them there, Roxy waving at Eggsy through the window after Harry knocks - Eggsy’s grinning, and Harry’s distracted by the sight long enough to miss Whiskey glancing behind Harry and to Eggsy’s hand before lunging at Eggsy, knocking the antidote from his hand and him to the ground. Roxy and Harry dive inside, barely reaching cover before the men who’d been sneaking up behind them open fire. Eggsy and Whiskey shout at each other for a bit, and then Whiskey goes in - Eggsy attempts to provide cover fire, but Roxy yanks him back, arguing with him. Relieved that he doesn’t have to be the one to explain the suspicions the two of them have discussed, Harry focuses on Whiskey, observing the way the man skillfully takes down the entire contingent of poorly-trained guards. 

When he returns, he immediately starts berating Harry, muttering about being empty and how it was a good thing that he didn’t need back up; Eggsy and Roxy watch in silence as he angrily goes through Harry’s bag, which is still full of the things he’d packed before Eggsy had jogged his memory. Harry watches him serenely, allowing his expression to go unfocused - and when Whiskey shoves himself to his feet, stomping towards Harry, Harry calmly brings his pistol up and fires one shot. His depth perception is still slightly off, but the shot grazes Whiskey’s temple; at such close range, it’s enough to knock him off his feet, though doubtfully enough to kill him. Eggsy shouts at him, but Harry ignores it for the moment, fishing through Roxy’s bag until he finds the bottle of Kingsman aftershave. He waits until the men with gatling guns - thank you for that tip, Eggsy - start firing on them before he activates the gel inside, counting off two seconds before he tosses it backwards through the window. A few seconds later, he hears the hiss of it activating and feels the breeze pass over his head, and stands up, brushing the debris from his jacket as Eggsy rushes for the alpha gel. There’s a moment where Harry fears Eggsy will give him up before he’s had a chance to explain to Merlin in person why he shot another agent, but then Eggsy simply gives him a hard look and says that Whiskey was caught in crossfire.

Once he and Roxy are alone with Merlin, however, Harry immediately tells him the truth, Eggsy just down the hall on the phone with someone. Merlin’s shocked, of course, but with Roxy backing him, Merlin merely nods. “I trust your instincts,” is all he tells Harry. “I don’t believe all of Statesman is bad, but I trust you on Whiskey.”

Right about then, Eggsy pushes through the middle of them, storming for the elevator; whatever that phone call was about, it’s not good news, because he speaks right over Merlin, insisting that they leave for Cambodia _now._

Harry, Roxy, and Merlin all share a glance, but don’t argue.

* * *

Roxy follows Merlin back to the cockpit once they’re in the air, giving Eggsy a Significant Look that Harry can’t hope to decipher the meaning of, and he makes a tentative attempt at re-establishing contact, but Eggsy shuts it down quickly. Swallowing against the hurt, Harry stands and moves behind the bar. “What about a martini, then? For old time’s sake.” He thinks Eggsy will refuse him again - he’s clearly considering it - but then Eggsy shrugs one shoulder. 

”Yeah, alright then,” he says, getting up to move closer to the bar as Harry gathers the necessary ingredients for a proper martini. The gin isn’t the brand he would have preferred, but it’s a good enough quality, and he sets about mixing things together, pausing when Eggsy says, “I had a girlfriend.” He glances up, one eyebrow raised before he continues pouring. Eggsy doesn’t seem to need any further encouragement, because he continues, “I know it’s against regulations and all, outside relationships, but Tilde knew who I was, and what that meant - or I thought she did - and things were good, but now we’ve broken up, and she’s fucking _dying_ from this Blue Rash shite - ”

Harry comes back around to the front of the bar, handing Eggsy his martini. “Do you know,” he begins, “what I thought of, staring down the barrel of Valentine’s gun? In the millisecond after he pulled the trigger?” He waits until Eggsy shakes his head before he answers his own question: “Nothing. Kingsman was my life, Eggsy. Entirely. I had no relationships once I joined, I only fell in love once and I made sure that he would never remember me with any fondness - “ He gives Eggsy a slight, apologetic smile when the younger man startles, drink sloshing in its glass - “and that was my only regret. Nothing else, Eggsy. I had no bittersweet memories, no one who would truly miss me without knowing why I was gone. That is the way Kingsman expected its agents to live, and it’s damned lonely. No way to spend your life. I don’t blame you for falling in love, Eggsy, for caring about something other than Kingsman. And we’ll do everything that we can to save this - Tilde, yes?”

There’s something odd in Eggsy’s expression, but Harry doesn’t get a chance to decipher it before Eggsy gives him a tentative smile and raises his glass. “Yeah,” he agrees, taking a sip; Harry follows suit, the knot in his chest loosening just a bit.

* * *

Statesman’s toys are nice, but not nice enough, because somehow the minesweepers fucking _miss one,_ and then Merlin pushes Eggsy off of it and steps on it himself. He tries to pull some bullshit, but Roxy rejects that idea quickly, taking charge of the situation. “Eggsy, Harry, get inside,” she orders. “Merlin, draw those outer guards to you, I’ll take them out. One of them is bound to have a way of deactivating landmines for guests.”

It’s a solid plan, and Harry doesn’t hesitate before nodding and moving away; Eggsy takes a moment longer, but then he’s by Harry’s side, the two of them creeping through the brush as Merlin starts singing fucking John Denver; it’s a spectacular diversion, all of the guards moving towards Merlin and completely missing Roxy, until she’s behind them and then on them like a whirling dervish; Eggsy and Harry take their opportunity as the security gates start sliding closed, Eggsy priming a baseball grenade and Harry knocking it inside, up onto the roof by the base of the gaudy plaster donut. From there it’s one adrenaline-fueled moment after another, victories and near-defeats coming so close together Harry rather doubts that his heart will survive this, and then _Whiskey_ shows up, confirming Harry’s suspicions, but Eggsy - genius, quick-thinking Eggsy - comes up with a plan in a split second and manages to communicate it effectively enough that Whiskey is still confused before Eggsy blinds him and the two of them spring into action, passing Whiskey between them like a racquetball, never allowing Whiskey to get the upper hand for more than a moment until finally he’s nothing but mincemeat and they can breathe.

Poppy had given them the password, and they enter it; it appears to have been the master password, because along with releasing the drones and antidotes, it unlocks the security gate out front. Harry’s not ashamed to say that he’s crying - just a little - when he hugs Merlin before shoving him and declaring he’s never letting the wanker out from behind a desk again.

Merlin just grins at him, more than a bit maniacal, before setting about hacking into all of Poppy’s files, extracting every last piece of information he can.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

Eggsy pulls in a deep breath, knocking on the hotel door; this is the first time he and Tilde have seen each other in person since he returned from Cambodia, and while they’ve texted, they both agreed that they needed to talk in person. Eggsy isn’t sure which conversation they’re going to end up having, but it needs to happen.

When Tilde opens the door, Eggsy gives her a winning smile. “Hey, love,” he says, faltering when all Tilde does is give him a small smile.

”Hello,” she says, moving out of the way and gesturing for Eggsy to come inside. He watches her as he does, taking in her body language - it’s closed-off, her arms crossed over her chest, her feet pointed away from him though she’s facing him without looking him in the eye for longer than a second or two. 

Eggsy straightens his shoulders, taking a deep breath. “So, we need to talk,” he says, then stops, at a loss for where to start.

Tilde, it seems, doesn’t have the same problem. “I believe we should stay broken up,” she says quietly. Eggsy blinks, staring at her in shock, and Tilde shakes her head. “Eggsy, Harry’s alive - you can’t honestly tell me you wouldn’t rather be with him?”

”Harry’s my fucking mentor - “

”I never talk about my mentors the way you do,” Tilde says gently. “I never talk about a teacher, or my father, or _anyone_ the way that you talk about Harry. I love you, Eggsy, and I don’t doubt that you love me, but - be honest. Do you love him?”

Eggsy has no answer for that; he’s never examined what happened with Harry too closely, never really sat and thought about how he felt about Harry. “I don’t - I’ve never thought about it,” he says, lost.

Tilde seems to accept the answer. “I think you need to,” she says. “You’ve - There’s always been something missing, Eggsy. We’ve been together, but for God’s sake, you were living in his old house. You regularly had conversations with his mounted dog, and I can’t count the number of times I found you sitting in his old office doing nothing but drinking. Maybe you weren’t in love with him, but he was still between us, Eggsy. I love you, but I can’t be in a relationship with you and a dead man come back to life. It was hard enough being in a relationship with you and a dead man.”

There’s not much else to say after that; Eggsy leaves, returning to his mum’s flat. He’s been staying with her while he searches for a new place, and he’s relieved when he comes home to find she’s gone out with Daisy, leaving him with the flat to himself.

It’s time to open that can of worms he’s been avoiding for a year. Is he in love with Harry? He always admired Harry, sure - but who the fuck wouldn’t, under the circumstances? Harry may have been involved in his dad’s death, but he wasn’t responsible for it, and Eggsy had never truly thought that Harry had only taken Eggsy under his wing out of some fucked up obligation to his dead dad. He and Harry had been friends - mentor and protege, certainly, but they’d been friends as well, and Eggsy would have had to be blind to not notice that Harry’s attractive. Much older than him, but Eggsy had also seen the pictures of younger Harry, and the man had aged well. But just recognizing that Harry was attractive didn’t mean that Eggsy was in love with him, did it?

His thoughts chased each other in circles for an hour; the way he stared off into space the whole time bored JB to sleep, but eventually Eggsy couldn’t just think about this by himself any more. Grabbing his phone, he calls Roxy, who answers on the third ring. She’s clearly dressed up for the night, about to go out, and she raises an eyebrow when she catches sight of him on her screen. “You look rough,” she decides. “What’s wrong?”

”Am I in love with Harry?” Eggsy blurts, then drops his head into his hands. “Fuck, sorry - I talked with Tilde, and she said… Well, she said she couldn’t be in a relationship with me and a dead man come back to life. That it was hard enough being in a relationship with me and Harry when he was dead.”

”You moved into Harry’s house and didn’t do anything but take down his newpapers,” Roxy points out. “You spent more time with Harry while he was _in a coma_ than you did in training during the trials, and that only got worse once he woke up. You killed the former Arthur because he was insulting the two of you. Eggsy, I’m surprised I didn’t catch you scratching ‘E.U. and H.H.’ onto your bedpost sometimes.”

Eggsy’s quiet for a moment, taking all of that in and then, “ _Fuck._ I’m in love with Harry.”

Roxy’s smile, to her credit, is sympathetic. “Yes, you are. Have been for a while, but I don’t blame you for repressing it.”

”But I love Tilde,” Eggsy protests.

”Are you in love with her?” Roxy asks, making the question sound like the simplest thing in the world. “There’s a difference. You don’t have to answer that right now, Eggsy, but it is something you should ponder. Because if you aren’t _in love_ with her, it’s not fair to either of you to continue the relationship.”

”That sounds like you’re speaking from experience,” Eggsy observes, and Roxy tilts her head.

”I am,” she concedes. “And I can tell you that it _sucks,_ no matter which side you’re on. Think about it, Eggsy; I’ve got a date.”

His own problems moved to the back burner for now, Eggsy grins. “A date? With who?”

”The new Whiskey, if you must know. She’s going to show me some of Statesman’s equipment so that we can compare it to Kingsman’s,” Roxy says with a smile. “Now bugger off, or I’m going to be late.”

Eggsy laughs. “Love you, Rox.”

”Love you, too, Eggs. Night.”

* * *

Insomnia most likely brought on by the fear of nightmares is the only reason that Harry’s awake at two in the morning when there’s a knock on the door to his flat. He frowns, picking up the pistol from the hallway table as he passes it, glancing at the sleeping Yorkshire puppy in her crate - labeled “Ms. Sugar” - before peering through the small peephole. He frowns and opens the door, eyeing Eggsy curiously. “Eggsy. Rather late for visiting hours, don’t you think?”

”I needed to talk with you,” Eggsy says; he’s breathing hard, a flush to his cheeks like he ran from his own flat to Harry’s, but Harry simply nods, stepping out of the doorway to allow Eggsy access.

Eggsy shuts and locks the door behind him, following Harry into the kitchen. “Tea?” Harry offers, glancing over his shoulder at Eggsy, who’s watching him with an unnerving closeness, his expression unreadable. It’s putting Harry on edge, and he finds his shoulders tensing as if preparing for a blow. 

”No, thank you,” Eggsy says, and the tension grows tighter as Eggsy takes a deep breath. Harry doesn’t want to hear the next words out of Eggsy’s mouth, he’s sure of it, but he left his watch in the bedroom and there’s no other way for him to keep Eggsy quiet - not that he would use a stun dart, honestly - so all he can do is wait while Eggsy marshals his words, eventually asking, “Are you in love with me?”

Harry flinches. “I realize you - “ he starts, but Eggsy cuts him off.

”Harry, just - yes or no. Are you still in love with me?”

Harry can’t look at Eggsy, instead busying himself putting away the dishes in the drying rack as he answers, “Yes. But I realize you do not feel the same, and that you are in a relationship already. I have no expectations of you, Eggsy, and I assure you - “

”Harry, love, breathe.” It’s the endearment more than anything that shuts Harry up, that makes him suck in a sharp breath and look at Eggsy, eye wide. Eggsy’s moved closer, Harry’s rambling masking his footsteps, and he’s almost close enough to touch, now. His expression is softer, more open than it had been when he’d entered the flat, and he’s - he’s smiling. 

Harry’s heart is hammering in his chest, but it’s for a different reason now; not anxiety, but anticipation. There’s something in Eggsy’s expression… “Eggsy?” he asks, barely more than a whisper.

Eggsy swallows, his gaze dipping to Harry’s mouth before he looks up, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “So, that’s a yes on you being in love with me, then?”

”Yes, Eggsy, but I fail to see - “ The start of Harry’s next ramble is headed off at the pass by Eggsy’s lips against his, pressing in a firm kiss that Harry is helpless against; he leans into it, hands twitching at his side, reaching for Eggsy before Eggsy pulls back. He leaves Harry blinking, confused, after him. “Eggsy?” he asks again, lost but hoping.

The corner of Eggy’s mouth quirks up. “Turns out, I’m in love with you, too. Have been ever since training,” he says, tone light but expression serious. “I am arse over _tits_ in love with you, Harry.”

”But, Tilde - “

Eggsy rubs the back of his neck. “I love her,” he says, appearing to choose his words with great care, “but… I took some time to think about it, after I talked with her and she suggested we don’t get back together, and. Well, I’m not in love with her. I love her, she’s an amazing person and I hope we’ll be able to stay friends because I’d really like to stay friends with her, but I realized that the way I love her is closer to the way I love Roxy.”

Harry nods once, slowly. “So then…”

”Well,” Eggsy says, obviously feigning nonchalance, “I was hoping you’d be willing to give this dating bit a try. With me, that is.”

Harry blinks, searching Eggsy’s expression, but he finds nothing but honesty there. He swallows, hard, takes a deep breath, and then nods. “Okay.”

Eggsy’s face is split by a grin. “Yeah?” When Harry nods again, he steps closer, slowly bringing his hands up to curl around the sides of Harry’s neck, his fingers threading through his hair. “So, can we keep doing that kissing thing? That was nice.”

Harry can’t help but huff a laugh, but complies, his hands on Eggsy’s hips as he steps into Eggsy’s space, backing the younger man up against the kitchen counter. Eggsy hops up with barely any encouragement, shifting around until Harry can slot himself between Eggsy’s spread thighs, his hands possessive over Eggsy’s hips, Eggsy tugging at his hair impatiently, angling Harry the way he wants him. Harry goes without resistance, letting Eggsy maneuver him about as he pleases, pressing closer until Eggsy gasps into the kiss, breaking it to bury his face in Harry’s shoulder, hips rocking forward to brush their covered cocks together again. “Eggsy, we don’t - “

Eggsy cuts him off with a kiss. “I want to,” he says firmly. “If you’re good with it, I want this.” He’s quiet for a moment, obviously thinking, and then, “Reckon I have since you took out Dean’s goons in the Black Prince.”

Harry groans, yanking Eggsy into another kiss. “You wanted me then?” he asks - growls, really. “Tell me.” It’s a demand as rough as the way he tugs at Eggsy’s hair, and he revels in the moan it earns him.

”Wanted to suck you off,” Eggsy admits, breathless as he grabs for Harry’s arms, wrapping his legs around Harry’s arms and pulling him closer, hips hitching until they’re pressed together, Harry unable to do anything but keep them to a slow grind, wanting to hear everything Eggsy’d thought. “Fuck, the way you moved,” Eggsy breathes, dragging Harry into a biting kiss. “Fucking lethal, you were - like some kind of goddamn cat. Then you fucking sat down and finished your pint, not even ruffled and I wanted to rough you up, wanted to wrinkle that posh fucking suit of yours.”

Harry groans at the image; honestly, they’d as good as had the pub to themselves. “I’d have let you,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to Eggsy’s jaw and nipping at the skin there, pinking it. “Fuck, everyone was out cold and going to stay that way, I’d have let you get on your knees right there, made you do everything,” he continues, moving down to Eggsy’s neck, pressing a kiss over the pulse he can feel under his lips before worrying a bruise into the skin there. Eggsy moans again, and Harry decides then and there that it’s now his life’s mission to get Eggsy to make that sound as often as possible.

He gets distracted by Eggsy’s hand slipping past the waistband of his sweats and boxers; he jerks, cursing under his breath when Eggsy wraps his hand around his cock. Eggsy’s grinning - smirking, really. “I’ll suck you off next time,” he promises, voice rough with lust as he works his hand over Harry’s cock.

This imbalance of power won’t do, Harry decides, and sets about rectifying it. He works Eggsy’s own pants open, pushing them down just enough to give him access to Eggsy’s cock; if they weren’t currently fucking on the kitchen counter, Harry would take his time, but that will have to wait for Eggsy’s promised ‘next time.’ There’s no finesse in either of their movements, only a drive to finish. They’re both breathing too hard to continue kissing; Harry rests his forehead against Eggsy’s, looking down to where they’ve got their hands wrapped around each other, fists working in a frantic rhythm, and he presses closer, his knuckles brushing Eggsy’s before he shifts his grip, taking them both in hand. Eggsy curses when he does, but adjusts quickly, shifting his own grip to cover what Harry’s can’t. In this position, Harry has more leverage, and he uses it to his advantage, working his hips in slow rolls to add more friction, pleasure curling at the base of his spine, coiling tighter and tighter until it spills over, and he comes with a gasped curse, cock jerking in their grip. Eggsy follows almost immediately, burying his own noises in Harry’s shoulder as he spills over their fists.

Neither of them move for a moment, catching their breath; eventually, Harry leans over to snag a washcloth, wiping his hand clean before taking Eggsy’s and doing the same. He tosses that cloth towards the small basket and grabs another to wipe themselves off with before he brings his own pants back into order, helping a still-dazed-looking Eggsy. Eggsy stays on the counter, dragging Harry back when he starts to move away. “Oh, no you don’t,” he says hastily. “Come here, damn it.”

”You can’t possibly be comfortable,” Harry protests even as he goes as demanded. 

”My arse is numb,” Eggsy counters. “So yeah, I’m comfortable.”

Harry rolls his eyes, but doesn’t resist when Eggsy tugs him in for another, lingering kiss. 

He’ll move them to the - far more comfortable - bed soon.


End file.
